


Lavender Fields Forever

by Bryonia_Alba



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 21:34:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11067585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bryonia_Alba/pseuds/Bryonia_Alba
Summary: Lavender became something of a workaholic after the war. Fortunately, a certain professor teaches her how to stop and smell the flowers again.





	Lavender Fields Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Written for smutty_claus, December 2011.

The latest batches of soap had finished curing. Lavender freed the bars from their moulds, using her wand to smooth away any ragged edges or irregularities. Once their appearance met the approval of Lavender’s critical eye, she sent the embossed soaps off to Natalie for packaging and labelling. Another wave of her wand cleaned the moulds before putting them away. It would be another week before she whipped up a new batch for curing.

Brushing her hands across the front of her work apron, Lavender tucked away her wand in the front pocket, taking a moment to survey her domain. Several enormous cauldrons bubbled away in one area, gently simmering the bases for her creams, soaps, and lotions. The steam distillery was in another area, extracting the essential oils needed for her products. Bins of dried flower petals waited to be made into sachets, potpourris, and drawer liners. Her employees bustled about stirring; bottling; packaging; labelling; and shipping her creations all across the United Kingdom and the Continent. The bakery, tea shop, and gift shop were housed in another building nearby, their operations overseen by her best friend and business partner, Parvati Patil.

Lavender Fields Forever was Lavender’s brainchild. Following the end of the war, she’d gone into business, taking a loan out from Gringott’s Bank and using most of her savings to purchase an old farmhouse in the Cotswolds. She’d planted lavender and aromatic roses, and used the flowers to make every sort of product imaginable, from bath and body luxuries to culinary confections. The business had grown steadily in the ten years since, appealing to wizard and Muggle alike, although all of her employees were Hogwarts alumni. There were _reasons_ why her facilities were always immaculate, and they involved spells rather than bleach.

Lavender oversaw the production side of the business, housed in what used to be the barn. Parvati was in charge of the bakery, the tea shop and gift shop located inside the renovated farmhouse, while her sister Padma kept the accounts. The division of labour worked well. Padma’s husband Anthony helped with the books occasionally, when he wasn’t busy with overseeing the planting and harvesting and other care of the lavender and roses. Natalie McDonald was Lavender’s right-hand witch in production, Orla Quirke baked all the goodies sold in the tea and gift shops, and she had recently hired Rose Zeller as a second clerk for the gift shop.

She loved her work, and she loved the people she worked with, but her evenings were completely open, save for errands and tweaking the production schedule. Her job was her life; and while she truly and honestly loved her work and couldn’t imagine doing anything else, she couldn’t deny sometimes she felt a little...well, lonely.

Adjusting the gauzy scarf around her neck, Lavender took a deep breath, banishing her momentary self-pity, and went to see how the bottling of the latest batches of rose oil and rosewater was coming along. 

Anthony Goldstein intercepted her, waving to catch her attention. “Lavender, have a moment?” he asked, smiling.

“Not really, but I think I can eke out a few minutes. What is it?” She adjusted her scarf again. Everyone at Lavender Fields Forever knew about the scars marring her throat and shoulder, but she’d worn scarves to cover them for so long adjusting had become second nature. “Someone else wanting to meet the proprietor?”

“Not just anyone. You remember Neville Longbottom, don’t you?” Anthony’s smile widened. “Apparently, he’s to be the new Herbology professor at Hogwarts this coming term.”

“He’s probably come to negotiate new rates for lavender, then. Professor Sprout used to do the same thing about this time every year.”

“I don’t recall ever seeing lavender in the greenhouses when we were in school,” Anthony mused. 

“No, but not every potion ingredient is magical, and professors of Herbology are also in charge of procuring plant ingredients for Potions and the hospital wing. Professor Slughorn doesn’t use a lot, but Madame Pomfrey does. Besides, they also buy a goodly quantity of the flowers we’ve used in the distillery for composting.” Lavender paused, thinking. “Oh, and the school buys our products for the kitchens. The house elves use our lavender sugars and syrups in some of their pudding dishes.”

“I’m well aware of that much. I had a fondness for their lavender-flavoured marshmallows,” Anthony said. “That still doesn’t answer the question of whether or not you’ll grant Neville a few minutes of your time.”

Lavender hesitated; but she supposed the rose oil and rosewater wouldn’t suffer from her absence. “Give me a moment to freshen up a bit. I’m sweaty. Tell him I’ll meet him in the tea room in, say, ten minutes?”

She walked away without waiting for a reply, trusting Anthony would relay the message. Ducking into the ladies’ lavatory, she splashed water on her face, finger-combed her hair into something resembling tidiness, and applied a bit of lip gloss but no other make-up. Neville already knew she’d been out working, and since her schoolgirl days she’d learned that she didn’t _have_ to wear make-up every single day. She did, however, stop by her office for a clean scarf and a fresh work apron. Face paint or no, she still needed to look professional.

There were only a few customers in the tea shop when Lavender walked in, which wasn’t unusual this time of day. Most of their custom showed up for either brunch or tea-time, and Monday was their slowest day. She spotted Neville right away, wearing Muggle jeans and a blue polo shirt, a cup of tea beside one hand, and started toward his table.

He rose as she approached, smiling. “Lavender! How have you been? You look well.”

“I’ve been good. Busy.” She sat down in the chair Neville pulled out for her, waiting until he’d resumed his own chair before continuing. “Anthony tells me you’re a professor now. Should I start calling you Professor Longbottom?”

“Only if you want me to start calling you Madame Brown,” he replied, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. She’d forgotten how warm and brown they were. “Pomona told me this was where I could find the best lavender, but I had no idea you owned the place until I saw Anthony. He works for you?”

“Anthony, and Padma and a few other Hogwarts alumni. And actually, I’m co-owner, along with Parvati. It’s been a lot of work, but we’re happy. At least, I’m happy.” Her tone turned brisk. “So, what can I do for you today?”

If Neville was surprised at the abrupt change of topic, he concealed it well. “I guess I’m here for lavender and roses, and lots of them,” he said, eyes fixed on hers. “Same amount as last year?”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll have the invoice drawn up and sent to you. The shipment itself is usually sent by Portkey since the volume is too great for owl post or broom courier, even with Shrinking and Lightening charms. I assume Professor Sprout told you where the shipments arrive?”

“Same as shipments for everything else.” Neville’s tone had also turned business-like. “We receive a lot in bulk, especially fertilisers and mulches.”

“Makes sense. Everything same as last year, then?” Lavender waited until Neville nodded assent and rose. “Brilliant. Now, I hate to say hello and run, but I need to get back to work. You understand.”

“Of course. Summer’s a busy time for me as well.”

He started to get up as well, but Lavender waved him back down into his chair. “Finish your tea, at least. It’s on the house. Try one of the scones before you leave, while you’re at it. Orla’s baking is truly magical.”

“I’m sure it is.” Neville glanced at his teacup, then back to Lavender. “Look, I’m...I’m going to be in the Cotswolds for another couple of days. I thought maybe, I mean, if you wanted, we could...” He stopped and drew a deep breath. “Would you be interested in dinner with me this evening? Take time to catch up properly?”

“I...Oh, I don’t know...” Lavender said, at a loss. It had been so long since she’d taken time for herself.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, the decision was taken from her hands when Parvati sang out from her spot behind the sweets counter, “Of course she’ll go! She’s available!” 

“I suppose I am.” Lavender gave Neville a small smile. “My business partner has spoken. Is seven o’clock all right with you? We can meet here.”

“Seven it is.” Neville drained his tea and stood. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Lavender waited until Neville was out the door and out of sight before spinning on one heel, facing Parvati. “What did you do that for? This is our busiest time of year! You know that!”

“Natalie is perfectly capable of getting the facility ready for tomorrow on her own,” Parvati replied, unfazed. “Lav, darling, I can count the number of days you’ve had off since we opened the business on one hand. It’s getting to the point where you make Hufflepuffs look lazy in comparison. Besides, we both know Neville is a complete sweetheart and a gentleman, and he’s easy on the eyes.” She made a shooing motion with one hand. “Wear a pretty dress and go have some fun, before you forget how!”

“Oh, all right! You don’t have to rub it in!”

Parvati smirked. “You realise I’ll want details afterward, don’t you? I’ll bet he’s become rather good at snogging since we left school.”

“ _Vati!_ ” But Parvati had already gone back into the kitchen, her tinkling laughter following behind.

Later that evening, Lavender grudgingly admitted to herself that Parvati had been right.

Neville had taken her to an upscale restaurant that actually had beef tartare on the menu. She figured he deserved a good-night kiss for that consideration alone. Expertly prepared raw beef was a true indulgence. It helped that he was good company, laughing at her stories in all the right places and sharing his own amusing tales. He held the door open for her as they entered the restaurant, pulled a chair out for her, told her she looked lovely, and basically behaved with all the gentlemanly aplomb Parvati had claimed.

Afterward they had seen a film at a Muggle cinema, with Neville manfully enduring the romantic comedy Lavender selected. It was fluffy, silly fun; and Lavender couldn’t remember the last time she had enjoyed herself so much. She used to live for fun – when had doing business taken over her life so completely?

All too soon it was time to go home. Lavender took Neville to her house via Side-along Apparation, since she hadn’t told him where she lived beforehand. It wouldn’t be a mistake she’d make again. Neville really had been lovely company.

“I had a wonderful time,” she said, fishing inside her purse for her housekey. “I’m glad you asked me to dinner. It’s been too long.”

“The pleasure was all mine,” Neville responded. “I, um, I have tickets to the Quidditch match next week between Holyhead and Wimbourne. Would you like to go?”

She could almost hear Parvati’s delighted squeal in her head, knowing her friend would never let her live it down if she refused. “All right.”

Neville grinned, obviously relieved at her acceptance of a second date. “Brilliant. I’ll come by at two, if that’s all right.”

“I’ll be waiting.” Standing on tiptoe, Lavender touched her lips briefly to Neville’s in a soft, chaste kiss. “Good night, Professor Longbottom.”

He chuckled. “Good night, Madame Brown.”

Lavender giggled, closing the door behind her, and went to Firecall Parvati. If she wanted details, she would have them!

The Quidditch match was followed by another, followed by an evening at Lavender’s favourite local pub, which was followed in turn by a night at Neville’s favourite. Before she knew it, a month had passed, and life had brightened considerably. One could say things were absolutely peachy. The business didn’t collapse at her absence, the flowers continued growing in abundance, and there were times when she actually smelled of something other than lavender and roses. They were lovely scents, lavender and roses, but the allure wore off quickly when surrounded by nothing else.

“How did you come by the name for your business?” Neville asked one evening over coffee. “Lavender Fields Forever? It’s catchy, and it suits you perfectly.”

“It’s a play on a classic Muggle song called “Strawberry Fields Forever” by a band called The Beatles,” Lavender answered. “It seemed right. I know our Muggle customers seem to enjoy the play on words. I can’t take the credit for it, though. Parvati came up with the name.”

“And growing lavender? Was that her idea, too?”

“No, that was all mine. You weren’t the only one who had decent marks in Herbology, you know. Anyway, after the war ended I needed to escape the world for awhile. I was tired of the looks I received when people saw me and my scars, and I was still vain enough to care. Still am, to be honest. It’s why I never go out without a scarf.” She let out a short huff of amusement. “God, Neville, you should see my collection sometime. I don’t just have one for every occasion, I have several!”

“You always did like clothes,” Neville remarked. “I imagine if you put them in one place they’d resemble a garden of silk and gauze, all the different colours of the rainbow.”

“I reckon you’d be right. Not that I’ve ever actually spread them out to see, you realise.” Lavender sipped from her coffee. “Still, the business became a refuge of sorts. Plants don’t care about appearances. They only care about getting enough water and sunlight, and they’re happy. Parvati managed the public part of the business, and I made sure everything ran smoothly behind the scenes, and I was content. At least, I thought I was.” _Until you came along_ , she almost said aloud. Instead she asked, “What of you? I haven’t been to Hogwarts at all since the war ended. How did you go back?”

“I never truly left, to be honest.” Neville shrugged. “The greenhouses were completely destroyed in the battle. I stayed with Pomona and helped her rebuild them. She took me on as her apprentice, I became a master herbologist, and once I had my mastery she told me she was going to retire and asked if I’d be interested in taking her place. She arranged my letters of recommendation and everything.” He picked up his spoon, twirling it between blunt fingers. “I think losing the greenhouses broke something in her. She told me on her last day at the school that the new buildings held nothing for her, and that it was up to me to create worthy memories. I just hope I’m up to the task.”

Lavender reached across the table, covering his hand with hers. “I know you will. Professor Sprout obviously had faith in you, and so do I.” Giving his fingers a squeeze, she added, “Professor Longbottom. You’re going to have to get used to that.”

“I suppose I will. Hopefully not from you though. Madame Brown.”

“Do you have any idea how old that makes me sound?” Lavender asked, unable to repress a giggle. “Am I going to have to start pulling my hair into a bun even tighter than Professor McGonagall’s?”

“Merlin, no!” Neville looked horrified at the prospect. “Don’t you dare!”

Lavender pouted. “Not even a little bun?”

“Not even a little one. I like your hair just the way it is. I like _you_ just the way you are, scars and scarves and all.”

There was something in the inflection in Neville’s words, a quiet ferocity, that made Lavender go still, eyes wide. Neville looked back, unflinching, and she swallowed against the sudden flutter deep in her abdomen. It had been so long since anyone had looked at her like that, with such needful desire.

Pushing her coffee cup away, she said quite deliberately, “Would you like to come home with me and see my scarf collection?”

Neville’s gaze never left hers. “I think I’d like that very much.”

The coffee was paid for in under five minutes, and less than five minutes after that they Apparated inside Lavender’s home with a loud _pop_. Thirty seconds after that they were stumbling into her bedroom, kissing like there was no tomorrow.

Reaching down, she tugged Neville’s shirt loose from his trousers and drew back, breaking the kiss so she could slide the shirt off his shoulders. "Much better," she whispered, letting her hands glide down his bare chest and over his stomach, thrilling at the small sound he made as her hands moved possessively over him, before settling her fingers against the button of his trousers. His hands rested on her waist, thumbs stroking over the silky material of her dress.

“Do you want to know something?” Lavender murmured, giving Neville a shy smile as she slipped the button through the eyehole on his trousers, making sure her fingers brushed over his belly as she did. “I can’t recall the last time I’m as happy as I am right now.”

“Neither can I.”

Tugging down the zipper, she eased the trousers over his hips, leaning down to press her lips against his chest before straightening, her smile widening as she fingered the edge of the boxers he wore beneath. “Silk. Nice.”

Neville glanced down at his boxers, his cheeks turning pink. “You like scarves,” he said, sounding embarrassed. “I like boxers. Not all of mine are silk, though.”

“I hope most of them are,” Lavender said softly, assisting him as he stepped out of his shoes and trousers before running her hands over his hips and around to his bottom. She gave him a squeeze, grinning when he let out a noise that suspiciously resembled a squeak. “I like these very much. When’s your birthday? I may have to buy more for you, just so I can touch you while you’re wearing them.”

“I like them because they’re comfortable,” Neville answered, pressing back against her caressing hands. “It’s almost like wearing nothing at all. My birthday is at the end of July, just so you know. I’d be more than happy to let you add to my collection, especially with that sort of incentive.”

His words made Lavender feel strangely shy all over again. Climbing onto the bed, she took his hand, tugging her with him. “Are you nervous?” she asked, fingers tightening around his. “I can’t believe I’m nervous. It’s not like you and I haven’t done this before, right? Or am I just being silly?”

Neville pulled her down deeper into the bed, stretching out until they lay side by side facing each other, Lavender’s fingers still threaded through his. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t feel you’re ready. Just because it might have been awhile for both of us doesn’t mean we haven’t lost the knack. Or is it commitment you’re worried about? I don’t sleep with just anyone. I want a future with you in it.”

“I’m not afraid of commitment,” Lavender sighed. “I think it’s because it’s _been_ so long since I’ve let myself become this close to someone. I’m so glad it’s you, and I – I guess I want it to be perfect in that romantically soppy way it is in books. I’m being silly again, aren’t I?”

Lifting a hand, Neville reached across to push a strand of hair from her cheek. “I’m not expecting perfection. I think we should do what feels good, and it’ll be fine. For instance, shouldn’t we be kissing instead of talking so much we both lose our nerve?” He hesitated. “Unless...Lavender, is this your first time?”

“My first...oh, no! No, I’m not a virgin. This flower’s already been deflowered. I’m being ridiculous, because you’re absolutely right. It’s going to be fine. It’s going to be better than fine.” Lavender sat up long enough to unwind the turquoise scarf she’d worn tonight from around her throat, tossing it over the side of the bed. “Ignore the scars. I can always dim the lights if they bother you too much.” She leaned in, cupping Neville’s face in her hands, kissing him with soft surety, lips brushing together before deepening the kiss slowly.

“You have scars? I hadn’t noticed.” Neville shifted on the bed so their bodies pressed together, lips parting willingly beneath Lavender’s. Sliding his fingers into Lavender’s hair, he added, “I should warn you, I have a few of my own.”

“Do you? I hadn’t noticed, either.” Lavender gasped into the kiss, already breathless with growing desire. Fingers splayed wide, she ran her hands over Neville’s back, touching every inch of skin she could reach, tracing his spine and the flat planes of his shoulders. “We may just be made for each other if that’s the case.”

“You think so?” Neville’s knee slid between her thighs as he moved in for another kiss. “It’s probably a good thing I agree.” His hands went to her dress, toying with the zipper. “You looked absolutely marvellous in this tonight, but I think now you’re the one who’s overdressed. What do you say we remedy the situation?”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” she breathed, skimming her fingers over his shoulders and further up into his hair. She heard the purring sound the zipper made as Neville lowered it, careful not to tear the dress, watching her with an intensity that only fuelled the pooling heat in Lavender’s belly. No one had ever looked at her like that. She felt beautiful in his eyes, like something precious and amazing.

She kissed him hard, overwhelmed. “God, you’re wonderful.”

Neville finished unzipping the dress, sliding his fingers beneath the silken material and brushing them over her skin before gently pushing the sleeves down her arms. Lavender quickly reached behind her back to undo her bra, pulling it off and baring her breasts to him. They made a perfect handful when he cupped his palm over one, squeezing carefully. He leaned in for another kiss, hand still on her breast.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed, drawing back just enough to speak before kissing her again. “So beautiful.”

Lavender loved the way Neville touched her, his hands incredibly gentle as his palm curled over her breast, thumb stroking over her skin. Her nipples tightened in response and she arched into his touch, her fingers clenching against his shoulders.

“Neville,” she whispered, kissing him again.

They contented themselves with kissing for awhile, long, slow, deep kisses that didn’t leave breath for much else. Neville’s hands seemed to be everywhere at once, divesting Lavender of her dress entirely, leaving her in nothing more than her knickers.

They had to come up for air eventually, and by the time Neville broke it off Lavender felt dizzy with arousal, panting softly as she clung to him. He nuzzled her throat, mouthing the scars there, his hand still kneading her breast. His other hand slipped under her knickers, cupping her mound, yet doing nothing to penetrate. Lavender pushed against his fingers, wanting him to feel her waiting for him, wet and slick and receptive.

Instead, he continued kissing her neck, moving slowly down until his lips closed over a taut nipple. Drawing it into his mouth, he gave a deep pull. Lavender made a soft noise deep in her throat, heat pooling between her thighs as she wriggled against his unmoving fingers.

“Please,” she begged, curling a hand into his hair. “Oh, _please_.”

Neville’s lips tightened around her nipple, tongue flicking over the tip. Lavender moaned, writhing against him as he finally slipped his fingers between her folds to discover exactly how wet she was for him. Releasing her nipple, he kissed the tip reverently before switching to the other, and Lavender bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out.

“Touch me,” he whispered against her breast. “I want to feel you, too.”

Lavender nodded her agreement, letting her hands graze down his sides to skim over his silk-clad erection. Neville let out a muffled groan as her fingers closed around his length, stroking him through his boxers. His hips thrust involuntarily into her hand, seeking more friction.

“Lavender...” he half-whispered, half-pleaded against her breast. His fingers continued moving through her wetness, one finger sliding into her while his thumb sought out and found her centre, stroking with a deft, gentle touch.

She keened softly as his finger slipped into her, hips undulating. Her fingers tightened around his cock, her movements becoming slightly uneven as his thumb circled more confidently around her clit. Lavender tugged him up into a deep kiss, mouths sealing together as she released him long enough to slide her hand beneath his boxers, curling her fingers around his erection and feeling him pulse under her touch.

“Want you,” she murmured into his mouth. “Want you so much.”

Neville made a small noise of agreement, and Lavender began pushing his boxers down over his hips, spreading her thighs around him and using her legs to ease them down. She stroked him gently all the while, squeezing rhythmically, her thumb rubbing through the clear fluid collecting at the tip and smearing it over the purpling head.

Rubbing her palm over the curve of his arse, she pushed his boxers the rest of the way down his legs with her feet, nipping at his bottom lip. “Want you inside me.”

“Yes,” Neville whispered, already working on sliding Lavender’s knickers down her legs and off. Settling between her spread thighs, he curled his hand around hers, gently moving it away from his erection before lining up and pushing in slowly, bit by bit, until he was fully inside. He let out a quiet gasp as she clamped around him, and Lavender felt something loosen in her chest, spilling over warm and full.

“Neville,” she moaned, voice shaking slightly as he pressed in deep. She wrapped her legs around him, holding him to her close and tight. “Oh, _Neville_.”

“God, you’re incredible,” Neville answered, sounding equally shaky as he began to move, breath quickening as he thrust into her, holding her close.

“Oh, yes, _yes_...” Lavender’s lips brushed his as their bodies moved together. Her hands carded through his hair and touched his face, cradling him as he sank into her, his thrusts becoming deeper, harder. She arched against him, her hips matching his pace, their breaths mingling. “Oh, so good, so good...”

Neville panted, his hand wriggling between their straining bodies, finding her clit and stroking. Lavender clung to him as he rocked above her, drowning in pleasure. She pulled him into a deep kiss, their tongues twining as they shifted and moved. Her legs tightened and she closed her eyes. 

He possessed her completely, his strokes deep and even, his fingers moving over her centre relentlessly until Lavender was taut and shaking, the tension coiling more and more tightly until it finally broke and she clenched around him, crying out as she came. 

Neville cried out as well as she spasmed around him. His thrusts grew more erratic, hips jerking as he thrust powerfully until he shuddered, hands tightening against her hips. His eyes squeezed shut, head falling back.

“God, yes, yes, _yes_ ,” he gasped as he spilled into her. Lavender wrapped her legs more firmly around him, holding on for dear life until they finally stilled, spent.

Collapsing back against the pillows, Lavender gasped for breath, smoothing her hands over Neville’s back and up through his hair. He tightened his arms around her and she kissed him gently, closing her eyes and losing herself in the moment, in _him_.

Neville kissed her back before resting his head between her breasts, his breathing gradually slowing. Lavender ran her fingers through his hair, feeling him relax even further while he traced abstract patterns over her hip with his fingertips.

“That’s going to be hard to top,” he commented idly, lifting his head just enough to kiss each breast before settling back onto Lavender’s chest. “I have a feeling we’re going to have a whole lot of fun trying, though.”

Lavender chuckled. “That _was_ amazing, wasn’t it?” Tilting her face, she kissed the crown of his head. Neville was warm and pliant above her, still inside her, and she was in absolutely no hurry for him to move. “I can’t imagine anything better than having you with me. Will you stay the night?”

Neville began nodding assent, and hesitated. “Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

“Don’t you?”

“Yes, but my plants can wait,” Neville replied. “Yours can’t?”

Lavender almost said they couldn’t, the words on the tip of her tongue before she stopped herself. She had Natalie and Anthony and Parvati and an entire roster of employees who could easily take up the slack if she was a few minutes late. Neville didn’t have that sort of back-up. The new school term would begin in only a few short weeks, and they would be unable to spend as much time together. They ought to make good use of the time they had.

Rolling Neville onto his back, Lavender straddled his hips, smiling down at him. “The other flowers can wait. This one wants to spend all night finding new ways to make me bloom. Think you’re up to the task?”

“I’m a master herbologist.” Neville somehow managed to sound grave despite his grin. “I think I can manage.”


End file.
